


You and I Were Made To Get Love Right

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Break Up, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 18:40:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn’t until he sees the notification “Harry Styles is single” that he realizes he’s fucked it all up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and I Were Made To Get Love Right

**Author's Note:**

> This just stemmed from my love for fics where Louis has the emotional capacity of a rock.
> 
> The title is from the song "Built to Last" by Melee.

Louis can’t even remember a time when his life wasn’t entangled so completely with Harry’s. He knows that at some point his closet must have been filled with only his clothes and his bathroom must have only held one toothbrush, but the images are a bit blurry in his mind. It’s been ten years since he’s had to eat cold leftovers or microwave meals for one, ten years since the other side of his bed has been achingly empty. His kitchen is filled with cookware that he can’t even name, his shower is filled with this girly smelling soap that Harry adores, and every morning his bed is filled with a tall gangly boy who makes him feel like he’s on top of the world.  His life is just as much his as it is Harry’s, and that quite frankly scares the shit out of him sometimes.

* * *

Louis’ been carrying the ring around in his pocket for months now, is the thing. He knows that what he’s got with Harry is serious and big and _forever_ , but that doesn’t make proposing to him any easier. He’s shit with words and he’s absolutely petrified that Harry’s going to say no. Harry’s never said no to him before, but that doesn’t mean he won’t start now.

He got the ring at this little vintage shop in London that Harry loves. He knew within seconds of looking at it that it was _the one_ , which is actually remarkably similar to the way he met Harry. Louis was shelving some new items at his bookstore when Harry tripped over the threshold and knocked into Louis. He wasn’t used to having to catch all 5’11” of Harry Styles in all of his clumsy glory, so they both went tumbling to the ground, landing in an awkward heap. Louis had the wind knocked out of him and he’d like to blame it on the fall, but he’s pretty positive it was because of the eyes and the hair and the fucking _dimples_. Harry grinned at him all cheekily and said, “Would you like to catch me some other time? Say, tomorrow night for dinner at the carnival in town?” and Louis was gone.

Louis’ been gone for Harry for as long as he can remember. He wakes up every morning with a mouthful of hair and Harry clinging to him like a monkey. It never fails to bring a smile to his face. He wakes up every morning with a boy who seems to fit perfectly by his side like a fucking puzzle piece. He wakes up every morning with the love of his life and he never wants it to end.

He’s got the ring and he’s got the boy, and he’s _had_ the boy for ten fucking years and he can’t really see that changing. But he still can’t bring himself to propose.

* * *

He’s brought out of his reverie by Harry slowly waking up beside him. He snuffles a bit before snuggling closer to Louis and murmuring a sleepy, “Morning, Lou,” before kissing him lightly on the cheek. They stay like that for a little while and Louis just loves mornings like this. Harry’s always on the go, running around town to photograph one thing or another. He can never seem to sit still for very long, except when he’s curled up in bed with Louis. And God, Louis loves that. He loves being the only one to see this calm side of his boy, loves being the only one who can ease his restlessness. He could spend the rest of his life bundled up under the covers with Harry, and he’s sure with every fiber of his being that Harry would do the same.

“I’ve got to go into the office today. Go over some photos for the next issue. Don’t wanna leave bed, though. Think they can just pick up the office and bring it here?”

“Well, H, if they did all of your coworkers would see us stark naked, and we’re both too possessive to let that happen.” He pulls Harry closer to him and nuzzles his face into Harry’s curls, hiding a smile.

“Mmm… that’s true. Want to be the only one to ever see you naked.”

“Well, I’m naked right now, you know. As are you. What do you propose we do about that, babe?” Harry doesn’t even reply to that, just picks his head off of Louis’ chest and kisses him deeply. They trade lazy kisses for a while before Louis starts to let his hands wander.

Harry’s body is fucking ridiculous, is the thing. It goes on for miles and miles and Louis’ kissed every inch of him throughout their relationship but it still feels like it’s never enough. He trails his hand down Harry’s torso, pinching his nipples as he goes. Harry squirms in response, rutting up against Louis and practically mewling. Louis teases him for a while, running his hand along the trail of hair that leads to Harry’s cock, until Harry grows impatient.

“C’mon, Lou. Please please please. Touch me, Lou.” Louis absolutely loves when Harry gets like this, loves completely taking him apart piece by piece until he’s boneless and sated on their bed, loves that he’s the only one who gets to see Harry like this, completely wanton and out of control.

“Shh, baby, calm down. I’ll take care of you.” Louis grasps Harry in his hand and Harry just groans and presses himself further into Louis’ palm. Harry’s most needy in the mornings and Louis’ been teasing him for a while now, and he knows he won’t last very long. He pumps him slow at first until Harry starts whining and fisting the sheets, and then he speeds up his wrist and flicks his thumb over the head in a way he knows Harry loves and Harry loses it. He comes with Louis’ name on his lips and Louis’ hand on his cock. Louis shushes him and kisses him gently, bringing him back down to earth.

“Christ, Lou. Definitely don’t wanna go to work now.” Louis barks out a laugh before grabbing a t-shirt off the floor and cleaning Harry up.

“Had to give you something to remember me by. C’mon, I’ll let you blow me in the shower.”

“I want to do this forever, y’know. Would blow you every day for a thousand years if I could.”

“I reckon I won’t live a thousand years if you’re blowing my brains out my cock every morning, love.”

Harry smacks him lightly in response. “Not what I meant. I just meant this is, like, permanent. Sometimes I feel like I was made for you.”

Louis feels warm and giddy inside, feels the confidence inside him start to grow. _Harry wants this too. He loves you. He’s going to say yes._

* * *

Zayn’s at the apartment later that day and they’re watching some reality show on the telly. Zayn works at the same magazine that Harry does but he does more freelance work which basically means he works whenever he wants (which isn’t often) and when he’s not working he’s hanging out with Louis. Louis usually has Greg cover the bookstore for him most days, and so Louis and Zayn spend most days curled up on the sofa watching shit television. Louis has been antsy all day and is just about to bring up the fact that he wants to propose to Harry but Zayn speaks up first.

“So, Lou. Did Harry say if he was taking that job offer from National Geographic?”

“What job offer?”

“Well, like, our boss at the magazine sort of told Harry he’s got a friend who works at NatGeo who’s retiring and, like, his position is going to be available. They want Harry to take his place. I, um, I thought you knew about this?”

“Um… no. He hasn’t, um, told me anything.”

 _What the fuck?_ Harry shares everything with Louis. Literally everything. He’ll text him throughout the day saying that he’s just eaten a sesame seed bagel or that he’s just seen a man riding a bicycle while playing guitar. So Louis’ not entirely sure why Harry wouldn’t have told him about something this massive. It bothers him, makes his heart feel heavy in a way that he’s never associated with Harry.

He sees Zayn out of the apartment before plopping back down on the couch. Why the fuck wouldn’t Harry tell him about a job offer? Harry’s a fucking amazing photographer and definitely deserves the promotion. Louis absolutely loves all of Harry’s photos, would fill their entire house with them if Harry would let him. But Harry is frustratingly modest about his work, and that’s why Louis thinks that maybe he just doesn’t think he’s good enough for NatGeo or something, which is fucking ridiculous. Louis’ in the process of running through all the various scenarios of why Harry wouldn’t tell him something this _big_ when the boy in question comes home from work.

“Hey, Lou. Hey, Flounder, my precious baby boy!” Louis feels a small smile break out over his face at hearing Harry greet their goldfish. Louis had won it for him at the carnival they went to for their first date, and Harry treats the fish like it’s royalty. It has a throne in its oversized tank and everything. Louis was adamantly against buying their _fish_ a throne, but Harry had pouted at him for about three seconds before he caved and bought the stupid thing. There’s also a castle and a giant sculpture of Ariel from The Little Mermaid, because that’s where Harry got Flounder’s name from. Louis would nag Harry for investing so much time and money over a fish of all things, but Flounder makes Harry happy and, well, Louis would never begrudge Harry anything if it made him smile.

Harry comes bounding over to Louis after feeding Flounder and plops himself down on his lap.

“I missed you, Lou. Don’t like leaving you. Work isn’t nearly as exciting as naked times with you.” Harry grins all wide and bright before leaning in to peck Louis on the lips. Louis wants nothing more than to make-out with his boyfriend on their lumpy couch, but he just can’t get over this job thing. He’s not normally one to instigate serious discussions, but they need to clear the air before Louis can even think about planning his proposal.

“Hey, speaking of work. Why didn’t you tell me about that job offer from National Geographic? That’s huge, Harry.” The smile slowly dims from Harry’s face.

“Who told you?” He gets off Louis’ lap and moves to sit beside him instead.

“Zayn told me. But that’s not the point. The point is you should have told me. Why didn’t you?”

“Because it’s no big deal, Lou. I’m not taking it. I like my job and my life as it is.” _No big deal._ Harry gets a job offer from one of the most prestigious magazines in the world and it’s no big deal. Right.

“Harry, are you serious, it’s National Geographic! Like, are you dumb? Of course you have to take it!”

“Louis, I’m turning the job down. It requires extensive traveling. Like, year-round international traveling. I can’t just leave and go gallivanting around the world. I don’t want to.”

“Harry, you’ve always wanted to travel. This is an amazing opportunity! Why are you turning it down?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you, okay? I want to stay here and wake up with you every morning and go to sleep with you every night. You have the bookstore and you can’t leave so I’m turning the job down, okay? Besides, I love my position at the magazine right now. I’m happy with it, so please leave it alone.”

 _Fuck_. This is every one of Louis’ worst nightmares coming true. Harry has always burned so much brighter than Louis. He’s always deserved so much _better_ than Louis. For ten years Louis let himself believe that he wasn’t holding Harry back, wasn’t slowly smothering him and corrupting him and _ruining_ him. Harry’s got an amazing job offer that will lead to an amazing life of travel and photography and all the things Harry loves, and Louis’ the only reason he’s not taking it.

He’s seen what happens to people when they settle, when they don’t get to pursue their dreams. They get resentful. Louis doesn’t ever want to see Harry resenting him for holding him back. Louis doesn’t want to wake up another ten years from now to see Harry unhappy in his boring life with a boring bookstore owner.

Louis’ always put Harry’s needs above his own, is the thing. Taking care of his boy is what makes him happy. All Harry’s ever wanted to do is to travel the world, and here’s a job that would let him do that. That would _pay_ him to do something he loves.

Louis can’t let him turn it down.

* * *

“I think we should break up.”

Harry whips his head around from where he’d been watching some rom com on the telly. “What?”

“I said I think we should break up.”

“No, I um, I heard you, I just. Why?”

“I’m just… done.” Harry’s eyes are getting bigger and bigger and the disbelief in his face would be comical at any other time.

“After ten years? You’re just…done? What? What is this really about? Is it about that job offer? Lou, I told you I didn’t want to take it.”

“No, it’s not about your job offer. I just don’t want to do this anymore. I’ve been fooling myself for so long thinking that we were right for each other, but we’re not.”

“Yes we are, Louis! We’re Harry and Louis, what could be more right than that?” He states it like a fact, which Louis supposes it is. He’s never been surer of anything in his entire life. He’s absolutely positive that he and Harry are meant to be together, but that doesn’t really change anything, in the end. Harry is still sacrificing his dream job to stay with Louis, and Louis can’t let that happen. No matter what, he’s adamant that Harry be happy.

“Look, I told you I’m just done. I don’t want to be Harry and Louis anymore. I’m going to go stay at Liam’s. I’ll have him come by for my stuff later. It’s been fun and all, but,”

“Stop. Shut up.” Harry’s voice is thunderous. “You do not get to sit here and feed me some shit about how the last ten years have been _fun_ for you. Just, are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. I’ve been tied down for too long, you know? I think we owe it to each other to go out and see other people. We were each other’s first real relationship, H. We haven’t gotten to experience living life with anyone else. I don’t want that, mate. I want to explore a bit, see what else is out there. And you should, too.” He’s not even sure what shit he’s spewing out of his mouth anymore, but he’s just intending it to _hurt hurt hurt_ so that Harry will finally leave. He’s barely holding himself together but he needs a clean break, needs Harry to let go.

“Explore what else is out there. Louis, c’mon. You know we’re perfect for each other. You know we’re meant to be and you’ve known it for ten years. What’s changed? Is this because I sort of hinted at marriage the other day? Like, I know I might be a bit more serious about all this, I get that I can maybe come on too strong, so we can table the whole marriage thing. We don’t have to talk about it.” The ring in his pocket has never felt heavier.

“I just don’t want to be with you, Harry. I don’t want to marry you and I, um, I don’t love you anymore.”

Harry seems to deflate at that, all the fight going out of him. “Right. Um, can you just… can you please go? I, um… please?” Harry turns away from him then and hides his face in his jumper. Louis knows Harry’s crying, knows he’s hurt his boy and it all seems so wrong. He’s never, not once in their entire time together, made Harry cry. They’ve never really had any big fights, just small petty arguments. They’ve always made up within minutes of screaming at each other, because that’s just who they are. Like Harry said, they’re made for each other. Louis’ pretty sure they were made to get love _right._ He wants nothing more than to curl up on the couch with him and forget this entire day ever happened, but he can’t.  He can’t have Harry resenting him, and he can’t have Harry regretting the fact that he didn’t take this job when he had the chance. So instead he just slips on his shoes and quietly shuts the front door behind him, walking away from the one thing in this world that actually matters to him, the one thing he swore to himself he’d never let go.

Before he loses his lunch on the sidewalk he manages to send one text to Zayn:

>   **Go see H. Convince him to take job. Please.**

* * *

The next few days are a blur. He stays in Liam’s guest bed and doesn’t go to the bookstore, lets Greg take over while he wallows in misery. He’s got no one to blame but himself. The only thing getting him through is the fact that Harry should be on a plane to Paris by now, should be settling into his shiny new life while using some shiny new camera to take pictures of the Eiffel Tower.

Liam brings him food and water a few times a day, and Louis goes through the motions but he’s not sure where to go from here. Whenever Liam tries to talk to him about what happened he tunes it out and waits for him to leave. Harry’s been the center of Louis’ entire world for so long so what the hell is he supposed to do without him? He checks Harry’s Twitter and is disappointed to find that he hasn’t been on since the day that they- that Louis- ended things. And if the last thing Harry tweeted makes him curl up in a ball and cry like a baby, well, no one but Liam needs to know.

> **At the pet store. Am thinking of buying Flounder an even bigger throne, but @Louis_Tomlinson would probably whine about me spoiling him…**

* * *

He finally musters the energy to go to the bookstore. He walks in to find Greg shelving new purchases in the fantasy section. “Morning, Greg.”

Greg swivels around and starts to smile at Louis before he sees his face. “Christ, Louis. You look like shit. I know you’re my boss and I could be sacked for saying that, but it’s true.”

Louis lets out a small laugh- he’s not sure he’ll ever properly laugh again- and replies, “Thanks, mate. You always know just what to say.”

“Do you, um, need to talk about it or anything? I sort of heard through the grapevine about you and Harry. Sucks.” No, Louis absolutely does not want to talk about it. Even thinking about it makes his whole chest hurt.

“Nah, mate, I just want to work. Need the distraction. Thanks, though.” So for the next few hours Louis shelves books and rings up customers and resolutely does not think about curly hair and green eyes and dimples, about those green eyes welling up with tears as Louis left him cold and alone on their couch.

Except he does. Think about him, that is. Everything reminds him of Harry. He can’t fucking escape him. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve to be miserable and pining for the rest of eternity for what he did, though, so he takes it. Takes the pain. He constantly reminds himself that this is all for Harry, that he’s doing this so that Harry can be _happy_ , and, well, it makes it just a little easier to bear.

Just a little.

* * *

“You’re dwelling, mate.”

“Greg, shouldn’t you be talking to customers or doing inventory or being somewhere that _isn’t_ here?”

“Probably. But my friend looks a bit like a kicked puppy. It’s weird. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you frown.” That’s probably true. Louis’ life for the past ten years had been nothing short of perfect, so he had been nothing short of stupidly happy. Louis’ probably had a permanent smile etched on his face since Harry first asked him out.

“Yeah, well, I’m frowning now. Deal with it.”

Greg walks over to the crappy radio that’s behind the counter and turns it up just when a sappy love song comes on. God, Louis does not have the emotional capacity to listen to this kind of crap now. Love is great and can set your soul on fire and make you feel like you’re soaring, but it also has a shitty way of shielding you from reality. Like the reality that you’re holding the love of your life back from living his dream.

Greg grabs Louis from behind and starts twirling him around the shop. Louis pouts the entire time, adamantly refusing to be cheered up. Greg’s a great employee and an even better friend, but Louis doesn’t want to be happy right now. He wants to be sad and mopey and he wants to go back to his flat and get drunk, only he doesn’t have a flat anymore. Harry’s there, and Louis’ not, and _fuck_.

“Smile for me, Lewis, or I’ll quit and you know you’ll never find someone as amazing as me who puts up with all your insane bullshit!”

Greg does some outrageous spin and then dips Louis and holds him there, making silly faces and crossing his eyes as he does. Louis lets out a laugh then, lets the smile come onto his face because he’s lost Harry and he’s never felt worse in his entire life but maybe smiling will make him feel less like curling up in Liam’s guest bed and never leaving.

“Oh… um… right. I’ll just… sorry.”

Louis whips his head around to the entrance of the shop and sees Harry and for a moment he forgets about the rest of the world and just stares at his boy. His curls are a bit flat and his eyes are puffy and red and he’s got the rattiest jumper on and is wearing a pair of Louis’ joggers, but Louis’ never been more ecstatic to see him in his entire life.

Before Louis can think of what to say or do, Harry looks at him with the most heartbroken expression on his face before he turns around and leaves. And Louis realized what this must have looked like, him dancing and smiling up at another man, and _shit_ when will he stop ruining everything he touches?

He shouts an excuse to Greg and chases after Harry. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows it’d be better if Harry thought Louis was seeing Greg, because it’d make it that much easier for Harry to let go, but Louis just _can’t._

“Harry! Wait up!” and Harry stops, because of course he does. He never seems capable of saying no to Louis, even when it hurts him to do so.

“What, um, what are you doing here?” he squeaks out as soon as he reaches him.

“Nothing. I just thought… well never mind. Sorry. I have to go.”

“Harry, wait, let me explain.”

Harry shakes his head and puts a hand up to stop him. “No, um, it’s better if I go. You don’t have to explain anything. I understand now. Bye, Louis.”

“Harry, just, um… have a safe flight, okay?” Harry looks at him confusedly for a few moments before nodding his head. He walks away from him with his shoulders hunched and head hung low and Louis’ pretty sure he’s the worst human being on the entire planet.

* * *

When he gets back to Liam's that night he sees the notification on his news feed and he should have been expecting it, really, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear.

> **Harry Styles is single.**

* * *

Liam wakes Louis up a few mornings later with a slap to the face.

“So, it’s been a week. Are you going to tell me why the hell you broke up with Harry?”

“Because I’m a shit human being who deserves to be squished by a truck. Liam, do you have a truck you can squish me with?”

“I’m not going to squish you with a truck. I am however going to sit here and listen patiently while you explain why you’re being such a prat.”

“You’re a prat.”

“Louis.” Louis sighs before letting it all out.

“Because of the job, Liam! Because Harry was going to turn down the opportunity of a lifetime just because of me, and I couldn’t let him do that. I couldn’t let myself get in the way of him pursuing his dreams because then he’d resent me and hate me later on. He needs to be happy, Liam. So I broke up with him.”

Liam looks at him incredulously for a few seconds. “You broke up with Harry… for a job? From what I could understand from all his blubbering he made it sound like you’d fallen madly in love with Greg and were no longer in love with him. Which is ridiculous. Everyone knows you’re stupidly in love with Harry.”

“Well, um, I may have _implied_ , that, um…that I no longer loved him.”

“You told Harry you didn’t love him. Louis. _Louis._ Please tell me you’re joking. Please.”

“I’m not joking, Liam. And then he sort of walked in on Greg and I dancing, but it wasn’t even a romantic dance Liam you know I don’t see anybody else but Harry like that and Greg was just trying to cheer me up but then Harry walked in, so…”

“Christ, Louis. This is bad.”

“Yeah, but it’s okay though, I’ll be lonely and miserable forever. Harry’s probably taking pictures of the Eiffel Tower and meeting some French bloke who’s much more successful than I am with my stupid bookstore, so I did a good deed. I need him to be happy, Liam.”

“You’re an absolute moron. Moron doesn’t even come close to describing you.”

“Hey! I’m not sure that repeatedly calling me a moron is the best way to cheer me up.”

“I’m not trying to cheer you up, you wanker! Louis. Oh my god, Louis. I just. _Louis_.”

“Shut up, Liam, and let me properly sulk. I just broke up with the love of my life so that he could have his dream job and you’re just making things more depressing. If that’s even possible.”

“He didn’t take the job, Louis.”

“…say that again?”

“He didn’t take the job. He called the magazine and told them that he was very thankful for the opportunity but that he wasn’t interested. He turned down the job and then came home to tell you but you dumped him before he could get the chance. So, whatever image you have of Harry being happy and serenading some French man in front of the Louvre, that’s not happening. He’s just as miserable as you are.”

Louis’ absolutely livid.

* * *

Louis barges into their flat and stomps his way to their bedroom only to see that their bed is still made and looks like it hasn’t been slept in in days.

“Harry Edward Styles! You’re a fucking idiot. Where the fuck are you?” Louis wanders out into the hallway. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to straighten your hair so you look like a twat! I’m going to- _oh_.”

He finds him then, curled up in the guest bed. Shit, it’s just the most depressing sight ever, and Louis knows it’s his entire fault. Harry’s hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in days, he’s wearing the same clothes that he was wearing when Louis last saw him, and there are tissues strewn all around bed and the floor. Louis wants to cry just looking at him.

“Why are you in the guest bed?”

Harry visibly tenses up and lets out a long sigh before answering.

“Other bed smells like you.” His voice is scratchy and miserable and god, Louis will never forgive himself for doing this to him, to _them_.

“Right, well, sorry for my smell. I meant like why are you here, in town, and not in Paris taking photographs for National Geographic! Why the fuck would you turn down that job, Harry?”

“Have you just come to yell at me? Like, breaking my heart wasn’t enough fun for you. You’ve got to make me feel even more like shit.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel like shit! I just, I just needed you to take that job! Why didn’t you take the job? You could have been traveling the world and taking proper photographs for a world-renowned newspaper so why the hell are you still in our dingy flat?”

“What good’s traveling the world if I can’t see it all with you?”

_Oh._

Louis slowly approaches the bed and sits down next to Harry. Harry doesn’t move, doesn’t get up and storm out or demand that Louis leave even after everything he’s put him through, because he’s _Harry_. He’s always putting everyone else’s needs before his own. And that’s why Louis had broken things off, because he needed Harry to be selfish for once, needed Harry to take that job and travel the world and be happy.

“Harry… I thought you’d love that job. I thought you’d be happy with it. You wouldn’t be stuck at a local magazine with your boring boyfriend and this boring life.”

“When have I ever said that my life is boring?”

“Well, you haven’t, but like… you deserve so much better than this small-town bullshit, H. You could do so many things at National Geographic, you could get paid to travel the world and meet people from other cultures and to _live_ a really freaking extraordinary life, and I don’t understand why you turned that down.”

“Because my life already is, or was, extraordinary. I’d like to travel the world, sure, but I’m not the kind of person who puts my career over everything else. I’m happy here, photographing carnivals and festivals and the townspeople and _you_. I’m content with everything. But I guess you weren’t, so.”

“What? Why in the world would you ever think I was anything short of completely happy?”

“Because you broke up with me, Louis. Did you forget that? You ended things. We were together for ten years and you said you didn’t love me anymore and then you left and now you’re with Greg and that’s fine, it’s whatever, I want you to be happy. But I’m still not taking the NatGeo job. I never wanted that job. I only wanted you.”

“Harry…”

“Louis, can you please just go?”

“I can’t leave. I’ve been such a prick, I can’t even explain. I’m so sorry for hurting you, Harry, for hurting us. I just, um, I sort of thought if I broke up with you that you’d take the job. I really thought you wanted the job but that you were just holding back for me. And I couldn’t let you do that and I didn’t want you to resent me twenty years down the road, so.”

“What about Greg?”

Louis barks out a nervous laugh. “Right, yeah. I was feeling like shit that day and he just turned on some music and danced with me and made me laugh. You literally walked in at the worst time possible. I’m so sorry. God, I can never apologize enough. Honestly.”

“You said you didn’t love me anymore, Louis.”

“I know, and I’m a complete wanker for saying that. I just, I knew you wouldn’t accept the truth, knew you’d say you were fine with your current job and that you just needed me, so I had to lie to make you hate me, or something. I’m not really sure, Harry. I was a proper mess. I just really felt like I had to push you away so you could go live your dream, you know?”

“How do you know I wasn’t already living my dream, though, Louis? Like, I had a stable job doing something I loved and I had a roof over my head and I had _you._ I was so bloody in love with you I couldn’t see straight. I was _happy_ , Louis. Why couldn’t you see that?”

“I guess I just don’t see how you can be happy with me, with a boring bookstore owner who’s not doing anything substantial with his life. You deserve better than me, Harry, honestly.”

“I think I should be the judge of what I do and don’t deserve. I just, god, Louis. I’m not sure what to do with all this.”

“I really can’t say enough how sorry I am. As soon as Liam told me you didn’t take the job I came right over. I spent the last week since you left the bookstore thinking that you were in an exotic country with some beautiful foreign man being happy. But you weren’t.”

“You don’t think much of me, do you? Thinking I’d move on from you within a week.”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t think much of _myself_ , Harry.”

Harry turns to him then, finally, and Louis feels his heart burst when he sees a slight smile- only just noticeable- come across Harry’s face.

“Well, I happen to think the world of you. When you’re not being an idiot.” Louis slowly brings his hand up to intertwine with Harry’s, desperately afraid of being turned away.

But Harry doesn’t turn away. He interlocks their fingers and it’s like the last two pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place.

“The bottom line is that I love you, H, and I want to make this up to you if you’ll still have me. I need to be in your life Harry, whether it be as friends or boyfriends.”

“So, you really do love me, then?”

“Yes. More than anything.”

“Alright. Yes. You can make it up to me, as boyfriends. I mean, we’re not okay. You sort of broke my heart, you know.” Harry says it with a smirk on his face and Louis knows he’s joking and Louis should laugh because his boy is smiling again, if only a little, but it makes him feel like a proper arsehole for fucking this all up in the first place.

“Yeah…I know I did.”

“Lou, I love you too, you know. And I’m pissed that you wanted to make that decision for me, wanted to take away my choice. I can’t believe you thought I’d somehow be happier alone than I would be with you.” There’s incredulity in Harry’s voice, like the thought of a Harry being happy without his Louis is just ridiculous, and Louis supposes it is.

“Yeah, I was an idiot. Believe me, I know. I just made us both miserable.”

“That’s okay. Flounder and I will take you back, but you’re going to have to bribe him with lots of treats. And maybe buy him an extra-large throne so he knows just how special he is to you.”

“Oh yeah? And what do I have to bribe you with?”

“Hmm… lots of blowjobs. And cotton candy, like the kind you bought me on our first date.”

“Blowjobs and cotton candy. You’re a bit easy, you know, H?”

“Easy for you, baby!” Louis never thought he’d get to have this again, would get to have his boy wrapped up in his arms, making jokes about sex and just being _Harry_. He’s not sure how he ended up with the most forgiving boy in the entire world, but he’s certainly never going to take it for granted again. He’s never going to make Harry cry again, he swears it.

“You’re sure this is what you want? You don’t want to go gallivanting off to exotic places trying to photograph the eighth world wonder or anything?”

Harry grins then, slow and bright, and it reminds Louis of when they first met. Takes him back to that day at the bookshop that changed his life, that day where he met the boy who’d become everything to him.

“If you wanted me to take a picture of your dick, Lou, all you had to do was ask.”

* * *

For the first time in a week Louis wakes up with Harry entangled in his arms. He squeezes him closer to his body, ensuring himself that he’s real and that he’s there and that they’re okay now, sort of. Harry forgives him for being a twat. Flounder will probably forgive him too, even though he’s almost positive the goldfish could care less. Louis has his boy back and he’s never letting him go.

“Mmm… mornin’, Lou.” Harry greets him with a kiss on the cheek like he does every morning and Louis clings onto that feeling for dear life, documenting every single moment with Harry because he came so close to losing all of this.

“Hey, H, I was thinking…”

“Aw, babe, we know nothing good ever comes from that.” Louis lets out an indignant squawk before flipping over and pinning Harry down on the bed. Harry grins cheekily up at him and Louis gets distracted by the smile on his mouth and the stars in his eyes. He remembers what he was going to ask earlier, though, so he leans down and bites Harry’s earlobe in retaliation for his joke. Harry lets out a deep moan at that and ruts up into Louis, aligning their bodies in the most delicious way possible.

Louis bites down on a moan of his own before whispering in Harry’s ear, “Was thinking you could fuck me, yeah? Fill me up good. Remind me who I belong to.”

Harry’s eyes shoot open at the request, filling with lust and hope and love. Always love. Louis doesn’t ask for this that often, is the thing. They’ve been together for ten years so they’ve obviously had a lot of sex in a lot of different ways, but usually Harry wants to be fucked and Louis wants to do the fucking. He loves being in control, loves making Harry come apart at the seams, but after the past week he just needs to let that go. Needs Harry to love him in the way only he can, needs to be controlled and dominated and ripped apart. Needs to be reminded that he belongs to Harry and that he’s stupid for thinking they could ever exist without each other.

“Yeah, Lou, would love that. Love to open you up with my fingers and fill you with my cock. Come inside you and watch as it drips out and down your legs. You want that, Lou?”

“Ngghh, yes, H, please.”

Harry flips them over then and starts sucking bruises to Louis’ neck and chest. Louis aches for them, wants to be marked so that the whole world knows he’s taken. So that they know that he is Harry’s, that he’s always been Harry’s. He moves to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck but Harry intercepts them and drags them behind Louis’ head, pushing them down and murmuring a firm, “Keep them there,” in Louis’ ear. Louis just about loses it, bucks his hips up and moans at the contact.

Harry makes his way down Louis’ body, licking and worshipping every spot with his tongue. Louis closes his eyes and just enjoys the sensation, enjoys his boy’s lips and hands, relishes in the fact that they made it back here, that he really didn’t fuck everything up past the point of no return.

Louis feels a whisper of breath near his cock a second before his eyes shoot open as Harry takes him fully in his mouth. “Oh, god, H, please, please, please, fucking _yes_!” Harry smiles while licking a stripe up the underside of his cock and oh my god this kid will literally be the death of him.

Harry pulls off him with an obscene slurping noise and then takes him into his hand so he can whisper, low and filthy, “Nobody else can make you feel like this, yeah? Nobody knows what you need more than I do, isn’t that right, darling?”

It’s taking all of Louis’ mental strength to keep his arms pinned behind his head when all he wants to do is run his fingers through Harry’s hair, wants to pull and yank in the way he knows makes Harry fall apart.

“Yeah, yeah, H, really know how to do it. You do it best. Only you, yeah.” He’s muttering out unintelligible phrases now, just trying to get Harry to get inside him because he’s climbing higher and higher towards his peak and he fucking needs it now more than ever, needs to be reminded that this is permanent and this is forever and that only Harry belongs in him, belongs with him.

Harry seems to know exactly what Louis needs, of course, so he reaches to the bedside table to grab some lube, a bottle that Louis remembers picking out a few weeks ago, before everything went to shit.

> “ _Louis! We need to buy this! It’s cranapple flavored lube. What the fuck is cranapple?”_
> 
> _"No thanks. You can get the cranapple, though. You're the one who has to taste it on my dick.”_

Harry coats his fingers in cranapple lube, _seriously_ , he’s so in love with this kid, and moves his hand lower and slowly works a finger in. It’s been forever since they’ve done this, so he’s tight but the small burn has never been more welcome. It reminds him that Harry’s here, that he’s real.

Harry adds a second finger and starts pushing them in with more force, crooking them at the end and hitting Louis right _there there there_  and Louis’s so close but he can’t, not yet, wants Harry inside him before he comes.

“H, I can’t, please, get in me, in in in,” and it should be embarrassing how desperate he’s acting, but it’s not, not with Harry. He knows that Harry won’t hold this against him, will keep this between them, a secret between lovers. Louis’ pretty sure that everyone assumes Harry is the one who gets fucked all the time and the one most desperate for it, but that’s because Louis doesn’t show this side of himself to anyone else except Harry. Doesn’t let himself come undone in front of anyone else except Harry, doesn’t trust anyone else to catch him as he tumbles over the edge.

Harry removes his fingers and slicks up his cock before sliding into Louis to the hilt. Louis’ never felt so full, so complete, and he can’t believe that he ever tried to let this go, tried to live without Harry. His vision goes black and he can barely breathe, can only feel _Harry Harry Harry_ and he’s positive that the entire house could collapse down upon them and he wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t care. The only thing that matters is HarryandLouis and this moment, right here, that reassures them both that they’re together, that they’re real, that they’re permanent.

Louis comes embarrassingly quickly, and Harry follows quickly after, biting his moan into Louis’ shoulder. They kiss a few times while waiting for their breathing to slow down, and Louis just listens to the sound of the two of them, of him and his boy in their bed, because yesterday he was sure that he’d never get to again. It hits him then how ridiculous and in tune they are, with not only each other but each other’s bodies. They’re inhaling and exhaling at the same time, and if Louis had any energy left he could place his hand over Harry’s heart and would probably find it beating in tune with his.

He dozes back off to sleep with his boy in his arms and his heart beating loudly in his chest.

Harry was right, what he said all those days ago. They really were made for each other. They’re HarryandLouis and they’re forever and ever.

* * *

Louis wakes up a few hours later to his favorite sight. Harry’s hair is tickling his nose and Harry’s legs are slotted perfectly with his. He’s snoring softly and it’s the most adorable sound Louis’ ever heard. Being careful not to jostle Harry, he slowly rolls out from under him and grabs his abandoned trousers from the floor. He reaches in his pocket to grab his cell phone to take a picture of Harry when he finds the jewelry box he’d been carrying around for months now. It seems like a lifetime away, hanging out with Zayn in their living room and trying to think of how to propose.

He’d been so worried at the time, absolutely petrified that Harry would say no, that he’d laugh in his face or something equally embarrassing. But he knows now that Harry would never do that. That somehow, for some reason, Harry loves him just as much as he loves Harry. All of a sudden his worries seem stupid and ridiculous in light of everything that happened in the past week. They’re together, they’re in love, and they should get married. That’s it. It’s a fact. It’s just that simple.

Louis rushes over to the bed and pounces on top of Harry, accidentally kneeing him in the balls in the process.

“Christ, Lou, not the best thing to wake up to in the morning. Fuuuuuck.”

“I’m sorry, Harry, but we’ve got something important to discuss! Up and at ‘em!”

“No, Lou, I want sleep.” Harry tries to burrow deeper under the covers, and _fine_. Louis was going to take him some place fancy and was going to kneel at his feet in a pile of roses or some shit, but Harry’s being difficult and stubborn so this will have to do.

“Right then. Years down the road when we’re asked to tell our engagement story, you’re going to be the one doing it. _Well, kids, your father and I were stark naked. In bed. Naked after a morning of passionate love-making. Naked love-making!_ ”

“Our engagement story? Louis, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that I love you, and I want you to be mine officially. You’re already mine in every other conceivable way except this one. I’ve been carrying this stupid ring around in my pocket for _months_ now. I bought it at that vintage shop in London, the one you always drag me to so you can buy your hipster clothes and fedoras and shit. Anyways, I was, um, I was going to propose to you last week, right? But then Zayn told me about the job and I sort of lost my shit, as you are well aware. God, Harry, have I apologized enough for that? I’m so so so sorry, love.”

“Lou, shut up.”

“Oh, that’s romantic. Telling your boyfriend to shut up while he’s trying to propose to you. You’re the absolute worst, Harry Styles. The absolute worst. May I continue?”

“Yes, please. But don’t you dare apologize for last week again. Yes, it was a shit time. Yes, you were a massive idiot. But I forgive you, Lou, hear me? I forgive you. I don’t need you to make up for it or anything, I just need you.”

“Right. Stop being all romantic, I’m the one proposing here. Now shush. I just, well, I’ve known that you were the only one for me since the day you literally knocked me off my feet. I’m not good with words, and I’m certainly not good with giving long romantic speeches. That’s your area of expertise. I just, I kind of completely lose my mind when I’m around you, you know? Like, the words get all swirled around in my head and nothing makes sense anymore. I think you do something to me that fucks up all my senses, H. Seriously. It’s like I get tunnel vision and no one exists except you. It’s been that way for ten years and I can’t ever see that changing. I think about you every single second of every single day. I think about you when I wake up in the morning and have clumps of your fruity smelling hair in my mouth because you’re the absolute worst at snuggling. I think about you when I’m at work and hear a stupid song on the radio. I think about you when I’m about to go to sleep and, fuck, I dream about you all the time. It’s so stupid and I feel like a complete imbecile half the time because my whole world shouldn’t revolve around you, but it kind of does. And that scares the shit out of me. But H, I’ve spent ten years of my life loving you- _ten years-_ and I’d really like to spend the rest of them with you, if you’ll have me. So, Harry Styles, if you’ll do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me, I promise to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you’ve made me. It’s not enough, I know, because no words will ever be enough for this, for us, but it’s all I’ve got to offer you.”

“It’s always been enough, Lou, and my answer is yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

* * *

Louis’ scrolling through Facebook later that night as Harry’s cooking their supper. His heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest with love and happiness. He’s been smiling this ridiculously large smile all day long, and his cheeks are starting to smart a bit but he just can’t fucking _stop_. He sees it then, on his news feed, big and bold and out there for the world to see, next to a picture of them making snow angels last Christmas.

> **Harry Styles is engaged to Louis Tomlinson**

Fuck, if that’s not the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen he doesn’t know what is. He wants to like it a million times, wants his family and friends and acquaintances to see it and know that he gets to keep all this forever. He gets the dingy flat with the lumpy sofa and the spoiled goldfish and the overstocked kitchen. He gets the bathroom with two toothbrushes and the sock drawer that only Harry ever uses and the bedside table stocked with the strangest flavors of lube. But mostly he gets his boy, his boy who he is utterly, completely, _stupidly_ in love with.

“Lou! Is this that extra-large super deluxe throne from the pet store in Flounder’s tank? You are actually the best _ever_! Oh my god, bring down the cranapple lube! You’re getting some fiancé lovin’ before supper!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very very American so there are probably tons of inaccuracies but Louis and Harry supposedly live in England.
> 
> I don't own One Direction or any of the people mentioned in this fic.


End file.
